


Memoria

by panda_shi



Series: the way we say goodbye [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Character Death, Deathfic, M/M, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of memories before Iruka's death. Little standalone one-shots that happens in the middle of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/490193">Adagio</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lessus

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, well. I wanted to write more stuff. Ugh, of all the things to write, it had to be this nonsense. :(

MEMORIA

There comes a time when Iruka's days no longer feel like days but like minutes instead. It had come all of a sudden when he wakes up in the middle of the night, a whisper in the wind that sounds like the voices of his parents but only turns out to be the slightly open window of their bedroom. It had come all of sudden, when he starts to see blotches of light sparking around the corners of his vision sometimes, but he doesn't pay that thing any attention. His eyesight is pretty much shot anyway, so he dismisses it as an aftereffect of his retinas severely deteriorating.

The whispering voices too, could have been from his deteriorating hearing.

Those things didn't matter.

What surprises Iruka is how he suddenly feels calm and he feels this the most when he looks at Kakashi. How Kakashi fills the bathtub with warm water, sticks his elbow around the running tap to feel the temperature, how he cups two handfuls of bath salts and kneels by the corner of the tub to stir the salts in, and how he looks up at Iruka by the doorway, looking a little confused by the smile that must have looked peaceful, accepting, happy. 

Iruka knows that under all the muscle and hidden smiles, the strength and support Kakashi has given him, only ever showing the strong man that he is, that Kakashi is chipping away just as much as Iruka's body is falling apart. It's there when Iruka leans against the broad chest and topography of scars, in how Kakashi breathes sometimes when he buries his nose in Iruka's thinning and brittle hair. It's there in how his hands tremble just the slightest bit, when they trace the lines of Iruka's sunken face, the bags under his eyes that never goes away anymore, the more prominent cheekbones and the sharp jut of his collarbones. Sometimes, it's there when he speaks, when he murmurs words and tells Iruka it's okay when they're in bed, or when he simply looks at Iruka when Iruka smiles at him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world. 

It's there every time Kakashi is still forced to go and fulfill his duties as Konoha's General, when he puts the uniform on with heavy hands and Iruka sits on the chair by the dresser, watching him dress. 

Iruka has stopped asking how long he'll be gone for.

He knows the question would be like knives to Kakashi's chest if he asks.

"I won't be gone long. I should be back tomorrow at noon." Kakashi says. 

It's his first mission in several weeks. Tsunade tries to keep him off the field unless she has no other options left.

"Hmm, you won't be gone long indeed." Iruka answers, a smile on his face as he watches Kakashi fasten the last buckle on his vest. "Are you sure that's enough? It's a little chilly this winter."

"I'll be fine." 

Kakashi always says that these days, when Iruka asks about him, how he feels, is he okay. One would think that after fifteen years of being together, Iruka would be used to it by now; he's not.

Not before the sickness.

Not before he had started to see the flashes of light around the corner of his visions, or when he hears the voices of his parents before he falls asleep or just before he wakes up.

It's different _now_ , though.

"I'm sure you will be." Iruka answers, pushing himself up from the chair and moving towards the corner of the bedroom where a small lidded basket holds the numerous rolls of yarns that hasn't been touched in weeks nestled along with a pair of knitting needles. His hands aren't as steady as they were during the earlier stages of his sickness. Iruka doesn't let that hinder him and on good days, it doesn't bother him.

Sometimes, when he's alone, and Kakashi can't see him, can't hear him, he cries and cries and cries for the man that he knows he's killing and will leave behind.

Iruka pulls out a scarf, nothing fancy, nothing too eye-catching, just dark blues and grays. It's one of the things he had started with and only recently got to finish. Most of the things he knitted when Iruka had picked up the 'hobby' to keep his nerves and joints moving after being diagnosed had ended up being trashed or burned out of frustration and fits of self-anger and self-hate. Other things, he had given away.

"It's not much." Iruka says, walking up to Kakashi who had suddenly gone still, like he always does when Iruka speaks the way he does now. Quiet, accepting, resigned and so tired, so _weak._ Iruka meets Kakashi's gaze, simply smiles at the lines of deep boned sadness that mars the handsome face of his lover. 

The scarf goes around Kakashi's neck and Iruka flushes a little, pink dusting over his pallid cheeks. "It's a little crooked around the edges." Iruka says, a little shamefaced as he holds out one end of the scarf, the one that he had finished recently, where the yarns had started to taper off to uneven knots and weaves, a sign of his weakened grip and withering state. Iruka pretends not to see the _look_ that reflects over Kakashi's gaze. "But it should keep you warm enough." 

Kakashi's hands are on Iruka's, the ones that are tucking the scarf under the collar of the vest, knotting it around the front. "I don't want to go."

"You must." Iruka says, firm and encouraging. Understanding and so very _resigned._ "It's your duty."

Iruka's fingers tighten around the calloused ones that suddenly tremble, very minutely, one wouldn't even notice if one didn't know Kakashi that well.

_(I know you too well, Kakashi. Sometimes more than you know yourself.)_

"Iruka…"

"I'll still be here when you get back." Iruka says, because even when time feels like minutes, Iruka knows it's not his time to leave. Not yet. "We'll have a picnic in the garden when you return. I'll make lunch and we can finish reading our book together." 

Iruka pulls Kakashi's face towards his, presses his lips that hides a toothy grin that is a touch forced as the words leave him, against the puffy and tired corners of Kakashi's eyelids and embraces him. 

"Come back safely."

Kakashi embraces him back and the grip is tight, almost suffocating.

Iruka doesn't have the heart to tell him to go or he'll be late when he already is. 

He doesn't have the heart to pull away.

It's in these moments, when Kakashi holds him so tight, that time suddenly feels like mere seconds and the voices of the dead are louder, the white lights brighter.

Iruka too, doesn't have the heart to make himself let go.

_(I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you.)_

So Iruka doesn't.


	2. Littera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter left behind of things that could never find words.

January 17

 

My dearest Kakashi,

I know you will wonder why I've chosen to write this instead of telling you myself. There are no words to describe just how much you mean to me, how much I love you and how sorry I am for not being strong enough, for not being able to overcome this sickness and leaving you behind. But I don't want to talk about guilt, or regrets, or things I wish I could do and never would be able to now. But rather I would like to talk about the things that made my life worth living for.

Do you remember, when we first met? 

You were my team captain and we had a briefing before departing on a mission that had gone quite disastrous, myself sustaining quite an impressive amount of injury. I remember how you looked like then when we came home, how disappointed you were, your guilt for not being able to protect a comrade properly, when it had been your responsibility. I never once thought that you were an arrogant prick like most of the people in our unit, but because of that mission, because of you, I finally understood where I really belonged, how I can serve my village better. It was because of you, and our mission together, perhaps the word 'you' being used a little loosely here or consciously back then, that I chose to become a teacher.

It has been the most rewarding experience of my life. Teaching children that is.

I have you to thank for that.

It is also because of these children that I got to meet you again.

I never assumed that we would cross paths, or at least work together unless it was a dire need. The life that we shared was only something I dared to imagine when I go to sleep and that was with someone faceless. It just seemed so unreal. But just like how you showed me where I belonged once, you showed me again what I can have when you just so much as strolled into my life with your suave ways, and your cool one liners are the bar, how you looked at me, how you spoke, and how you kissed and how it felt like to have you so close. You remember the evening I am talking about, surely.

It hasn't been easy, our relationship. It's never been easy. I know it wasn't for you, but it was never for me too. I was scared too, you know? I tried not to show it, not when I knew you were scared too. You ran away a lot, you ignored me, you hurt me, you scared me, you gave me heart attacks coming through my window bleeding and practically dying -- what kind of genius does that? What kind of idiot with half brain would go to someone else's apartment as opposed to seeking proper medical attention. It was hard for you to stay away, just as much as it was hard for me to look away. I knew that then, but more so I know that now. There were times when I hated you, when I was angry and just wished you would go away and never come back, when I wished I never met you, never spent a night with you, when I wished we were simply strangers.

But never doubt I loved you, have loved you, will always love you.

I can't imagine leaving you behind. Sometimes, I don't want to think about it. I saw it, you know? Sometimes I heard you, when you cried. I saw it, when you looked at me, when you brushed my hair. Or when you showed me things or helped me with the garden. I heard it in your voice when you read my letters and books to me. I felt it in your touch when you held my hand while we took walks, or when we were just in the bath together. Sometimes, I tasted it in your kisses too, or felt it in your breath when you hid your face against my neck on many nights. 

Is it strange to say that I loved you even more, then? Is it even possible to love you more than I already did at that point? 

You are so strong, and so beautiful, you've given me everything. You turned what was simply a fantasy into reality. You gave me a home and something to live for. You made me feel what I thought I'd never be able to have again -- a family. We may not have had children, or it may have been a little odd compared to what normalcy dictates, but we had our home, we had our kois, our garden, the dogs, the children and Naruto, and Sakura and Sai and the canaries you brought home, the rabbits that ruined our garden at some point. 

Most of all, I had _you._

I can't think of anything else I'd rather have.

Because I had it all.

Everything in my life, I have you to thank. Thank you, for showing me all those years ago, how I can best serve my village, my weakness and strength and one of my greatest joys. Thank you for helping me decide to be a teacher. Thank you for easing my doubts when I had been unsure about Naruto (you know how much he means to me). 

But most of all Kakashi, thank you for _choosing me._

Thank you for being with me.

For loving me.

I wish I was stronger. I wish I didn't have to leave you behind. 

When you read this, I know what you're going to do. So I hope that when you find this, you'll have completed your duty to the village, you would have tried to live and carry on like how you promised me that time when I asked you to. I am asking for too much by making you promise to do such a thing and I am so sorry. I know that now while I'm writing this and consider it my apology for putting you through so much pain, and so much suffering because of a selfish request. 

I love you.

I will always, always love you. 

I am grateful to you.

You made me what I am today.

This letter is an utter mess. I know I'm all over the place. I didn't think I'd be able to explain what I felt through mere words alone. It's hard to do that, to say what I feel for you. My only true regret in all the years I've lived till now is that I had to put you through so much. I'm so, so sorry for that, Kakashi. So sorry.

I wish I was stronger. I wish we could grow old and gray, share medications for our arthritis. I wish I could find out if you would go bald. I wish I could find out if you would ever fail to get it up like the way you keep joking about. I wish I could live to see if the pack would ever have puppies. Or how big our garden would get. How tall our tree would become. I wish I could watch your team, my children, grow and have children of their own, watch them call you uncle, or old man, or Kashi-jii-san. 

I wish I could have seen how you'd look like then.

I wish I could wake up and still see you sleep. One more time.

I really do. 

I love you.

I love you so much.

I told myself I'd try to write down what I feel about you, how much you mean to me. I don't think I've done that. I don't think I could ever do it justice. This was a rather pathetic attempt, in all honesty. What a mess. I'd be surprised if any of it even made sense to begin with.

When it's all over, I'll be waiting. 

I hope, this time around, you'd still pick me.

 

All my love and life,

~Iruka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was Iruka trying to explain how he felt -- but like the letter states, he felt so much, no words or any form of literature could depict it.


	3. Petentibus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka becomes a burden and asks Tenzou for help.

The garden is misty when Iruka pushes the window open, shivering and pulling his robe tighter around himself, looking upon the sparrows pecking at the grass and the mild splash of the koi. It isn't because of the sparrows or the fact that the house needed some air that Iruka has chosen to open the window.

But rather because there is a stray lingering on the rooftop of his home.

"Would you like to come in for tea? I made tea cakes yesterday, and they're a little uneven but I suppose the flavoring isn't that off."

There is a long pause and to that Iruka smiles and chuckles, turning for the kitchen just as the presence makes itself visible just beyond the living room window. Iruka doesn't have to turn to find Tenzou in his white armor and porcelain mask standing there. He only turns when he feels rather than hears the shuffle of movement.

It is only then that he looks over his shoulder at the man who looks mildly chastised and a little pink around the tips of his ears.

"Come into the kitchen. I would serve tea in the common room but my grip isn't as steady. I do not wish to break another tray." Iruka waves a hand before tucking in thinned fingers into the pocket of his robe. 

"Iruka-san, don't trouble yourself on my behalf. Please --"

"Nonsense!" Iruka admonishes and leaves Tenzou by the hallway, speaking extra loud as he putters around the kitchen. "Besides, you must be cold sitting in the roof all this time. I could have used the company, you know?" 

"Iruka-san, I meant no disrespect."

Iruka chuckles a little under his breath, shaking his head as he fusses with pot and tea cups. He has long ago accepted his fate, long ago stopped taking it too personally that people worry about him, treats him like fragile crystal, treat him like something sick and dying, withering away. He is sick and dying, he is weak and half blind and half deaf, with no sure grip and a shadow of what once was. 

He is a walking memory and a sad past.

"I know you didn't." Iruka says, turning to face Tenzou and gesturing for him to take a seat. "I don't take it as an insult. Tenzou-san, I'm dying. There can be no insult to that." He smiles, and cups Tenzou's hand with his, giving it a squeeze when he sees the slightly stricken look that briefly crosses the man's face. "Don't beat yourself up. Now, I have this quite amazing tea that Kakashi brought last month. It's a little spicy, but I find it goes well with the tea cakes. I hope you'll enjoy it."

"Can I help, Iruka-san?" Tenzou asks, looking a little unsure, a little gobsmacked, more than he usually is when around Iruka. Iruka is grateful for Tenzou being present. Whether it is because Kakashi has asked Tenzou to check in on his sick lover or Tenzou does it out of duty and concern and respect.

Kakashi has been gone a week.

Iruka simply keeps smiling, like he's quite pleased with playing hosts.

"Please take the plates out from that cupboard. And help yourself to some of the cake."

It goes like that for a moment, both of them brushing past each other, Tenzou setting the plates and cutleries on the table, serving cake slices, and folding napkins, Iruka pouring the tea, steeping the tea leaves. It's all very fancy, all the fine china and all the formalities, like Iruka isn't sick at all. Except he so very is, when the tea cup wobbles a bit in his grip, when some of the tea spills into the tray, or when Iruka nearly drops the plate that Tenzou hands him with his serving of the cake. 

Iruka's hands are so thin, knuckles bone white when he flexes his fingers, or when he adjusts his weakened grip. He looks like he doesn't sleep, like he doesn't rest. He looks like death swathed in folds of his red robe with the collar of his thick pajamas hanging around his neck. Iruka knows what people see when they look at him, he knows what Tenzou sees right then and there, when he remains frozen and unmoving, simply looking at Iruka with an unreadable expression.

Tenzou sees what Naruto sees, what Tsunade and Sakura sees, what Iruka's friends see.

What Kakashi sees.

"I am a burden." Iruka says, with a smile that was heartbreakingly real and gentle. He never says this out loud, not to anyone, not even to his Hokage. He is not sure what prompts him to speak out what he keeps locked and hidden inside.

Perhaps it is desperation.

"No. You are not." Tenzou says, firm, perhaps just a touch angry too. "You shouldn't speak that way, Iruka-san."

"I don't." Iruka says, looking at his tea cup. "But, I -- well." Iruka closes his eyes and takes in a slow breath, picks up his tea cup and takes a sip.

"Senpai shouldn't hear you speak like that. It will kill him, Iruka-san."

Iruka's smile is wide then, and laced with guilt. The dimples hollow and the lines of sadness crinkles around the corner of Iruka's hollowed eyes and around the corners of his lips.

"You don't understand, Tenzou-san. Kakashi is dying too. I am a burden to him, he will die because of me." Iruka looks at Tenzou then and suddenly looks older than his age. "I've been -- I've asked for something I should have never asked from him. A selfish request, a stupid request. Please --"

"Iruka-san --"

"Please listen to me, Tenzou-san." Iruka reaches for Tenzou's hands, holds the thicker and healthier palms in his, squeezes them like a lifeline. "He will die. You know what kind of death I speak of."

Tenzou remains silent.

"I don't know if anyone will be able to fix him, to help him, or save him from this, but please, do not leave him alone. Please do not let him suffer all this on his own. He will insist on being fine, he will insist on taking care of himself but I know just as much as you do, that he will destroy himself. _You_ know this."

There are times when Iruka thinks he can see something else under the smiles and brotherly camraderie under all of Tenzou's care, the attention he directs towards his senior, the man that he respects. It has always been dismissed as something that Iruka might have imagined, a fleeting thought, something that might have reflected around his blind spot. But now, sitting there in the quiet kitchen and holding Tenzou's hands, feeling those strong fingers purposely remain lax and alarmingly still, Iruka can see just how much Tenzou can see into the bleak future ahead.

Iruka knows, that like him, Tenzou sees no hope.

Or like him, Tenzou too is hoping for the best.

A miracle, at most.

"I am not afraid of dying, Tenzou." Iruka says with confidence, eyes on the cooling tea and tea cakes that he hasn't had an appetite for in months now. "But I am afraid for Kakashi."

Tenzou's hands tighten around Iruka's then, pushing warm into the cool fingertips.

"I don't know what to do anymore." Iruka's head dips forward just as his voice cracks and the tears spills with abandon. 

When one becomes weakened and sick the way Iruka has, there comes a point where shame no longer becomes an issue. It comes with accepting one's fate, one's weakness. And in that moment, when Iruka looked at possibly the only man outside of Kakashi that he has dared bared himself the way he has at the moment, he lets Tenzou get a glimpse of the devastation that has swallowed and festered within the walls of the Hatake-Umino household. He lets Tenzou see just how much Umino Iruka and Hatake Kakashi are killing each other because they loved each other so. Iruka watches Tenzou look utterly helpless and lost because he knows that like him, Tenzou is aware that death would be a blessed mercy for Kakashi.

"I can't do anything." Iruka admits and this time, he is consciously choosing to become a burden for one last time. "Please don't leave him, Tenzou-san."

Tenzou doesn't answer. No verbally.

But he embraces the man that is Hatake Kakashi's saviour and Hatake Kakashi's killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting ridiculous, I think.


End file.
